


"Are you a boy or a girl?" "I'm an angel."

by teatales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Agender Author, Agender Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender Identity, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), LGBTQ Themes, Other, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatales/pseuds/teatales
Summary: “I do believe that I’m in this state because you called me your husband,” he replied with a tight smile.That wasn’t what Crowley expected. She backed off, slightly. One hand hovered above Aziraphale’s thigh, light caught on the golden ring. “Do you… not want to be married anymore?” Crowley questioned in a soft voice.A horrified look crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Good heavens! No, my dear, never that, I promise you,” he grabbed her hand tightly and pressed it to his chest. “No, it is the… connotations, of the phrase, I suppose.”Crowley squeezed back. “Aziraphale, I know you’re upset right now,” she said in a strained voice, “but I would really appreciate it if you spell it out for me.”The angel let out a breath. He nodded slowly. “The thing that upset me, about your comments, was,” he said, “the gender, of it.”Or, how Aziraphale realises they're agender.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley & The Them (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 166





	"Are you a boy or a girl?" "I'm an angel."

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this back in November, which was my five year gender anniversary (also nanowrimo but let's ignore how much of a nonsense person I am). Every year I try to go in hopeful and positive and so far every year my mental illnesses knock me down. Point is, I suppose I wrote this fic because I didn't have the gender discovery or coming outs that I wished to, or would have been ideal. Writing that for Aziraphale... I dunno if it's actually helped. But it's written, y'know? I also very much love agender Aziraphale and genderfluid Crowley but haven't been writing a lot of them in a more obvious/explicit/in-your-face way, no doubt because of internalised bullshit. But we're all working through stuff. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, MxTicketyBoo, for the help and reassurance! 
> 
> Warnings and notes: Crowley's pronouns change throughout but kinda settle on they/them at the end. As Aziraphale is discovering their gender stuff in real time while reading the fic, I felt it was appropriate and realistic to have them switch from he/him to they/them about halfway through the fic. Aziraphale also deals with some anxiety throughout, but Crowley loves them so much and they're in good hands. 
> 
> No proper title because half of my gender is shitposting. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Aziraphale was a lover of language. He didn’t understand those who claimed to be the same but held on to ancient and outdated traditions. Sure, the Great Vowel Shift had screwed a lot of speakers over. And of course he missed some of the now-archaic terms that had been so specifically useful. But evolution was _wonderful,_ as much as he had old favourites.

After the apocalypse didn’t happen, both Crowley and Aziraphale were on edge for sometime. The angel was more explicit about it, of course, as he fussed about with his clothes and books and hair. Whereas for Crowley it built up like a dammed river and burst at seemingly the most random of moments. Months later the couple had stopped looking over their shoulders at the slightest movements; stopped jumping at loud noises and flashes of light. 

They settled into themselves, too, and their relationship. Aziraphale allowed himself to reach out, to touch, to go beyond the occasional “my dear”. He was generous with his affection and Crowley lapped it up like a creature starved. He was, really. Unloved and unknown for so long. Crowley let himself be loved, be heard, and in return he tried everyday to show Aziraphale just how _good_ he was. It was ironic, sure, for an angel to believe himself unworthy but the toxicity of heaven had rooted itself deep. 

And here we were. The couple had moved to the South Downs a few months into their new chapter, after they realised just how much staying in the city felt like holding a breath. They lived in a delightful cottage by the sea, one which had a large garden for Crowley to tend to. Aziraphale and Crowley spent their time now almost exclusively in each other’s company. They walked to the village, ate meals together, visited the regular markets, took day trips to see their friends, had picnics. 

In the colder months they rugged up indoors, Crowley in a jumper of Aziraphale’s own making. They drank hot chocolate and sat by the fire, Aziraphale more often than not reading the latest selection for his book club. 

But it was now spring. The bigger LGBTQ+ organisation two towns over was preparing for Pride, and so were our lovebirds. 

Aziraphale had always had a fondness for the outcasts of society. He was perceived, mostly on purpose, as a Southern pansy through and through. Over the years he had been an uncle - and aunty - to many young people who needed a family. And now it was so much accepted and opened. He couldn’t help but think of all the people he had lost, sometimes. Often when Crowley was asleep and he felt restless at night. Nevermind that now. 

Preparations were in full swing and Crowley had been rapidly cycling through genders. The warmer weather always spurred them on, the demon explaining it away with the need to shed skin. Nevermind that Crowley’s shedding was infrequent at best, and snakes shed at least twice a year. As far as Aziraphale was aware, summer only came once. 

Aziraphale loved his spouse, of course, no matter who they were or what they were wearing. Aziraphale found them gorgeous in anything or nothing at all. There was a pang of… something, in his own stomach, though. It lingered when he looked at Crowley, when she mentioned something, offhand, about people being confused about her. It was one of her favourite demonic activities of course, but something sour clung to the back of Aziraphale’s tongue. 

This feeling continued as they tidied the guesthouse for their incoming visitors. Months ago they had promised to put up Warlock and Adam and The Them for part of the summer, including for Pride. Young people were so ahead of the curve, these days, and at his six thousand sum years Aziraphale sometimes felt old. Ancient. Weary. He was clever enough, and used his tablet and smartphone, and was quicker than most at adapting to new ideas. The feeling, though, remained. That he was… outdated, somehow. Or left behind. Some part of him, anyway. 

^^^

Even though the sense of community and togetherness was building, Aziraphale couldn’t help but withdraw inwards. 

He usually loved this sort of thing. Friendship and connection and catching up. Meeting new people and hearing about their lives. But he felt unstuck in himself and that wasn’t at all conductive for socialising. 

Crowley noticed, of course. As much as Aziraphale wished she didn’t. They were both quite occupied with their various godchildren underfoot and spent most days guiding them around the village or the seaside. The kids were very independent but after everything that had happened neither were too keen on leaving them without supervision. The couple returned after each day pleasantly exhausted and collapsed into bed with little conversation, more often than not. 

Crowley was a shining light throughout it all. She took much of the attention away from Aziraphale, which he gratefully preferred. Children had always been Crowley’s forte. She liked their natural inclination towards brutal honesty and mischief. Aziraphale, on the other hand, loved them from a distance. His worry - his anxiety - had only increased and sticky fingers weren’t exactly reassuring, especially near his precious books. Crowley kept them occupied and entertained with tricks and stories and explanations.

They were in the middle of such a situation now. Convinced to settle down to a picnic, Crowley and Aziraphale were surrounded by the children munching on various snacks. Adam recently had been fascinated with a book about Rome and Crowley was recounting the (slightly) watered down versions of her exploits. 

“-anyway. Aziraphale happened to be there too, of course, and well you know my husband here, _he_ said to the senator…” 

Blood rushed to Aziraphale’s ears and he ducked his head down as his spouse continued the story. He felt Crowley’s eyes on him but she didn’t bring it up until they retired for the evening. 

They were lying together in bed. Aziraphale, stuck on the same book page he had been for the past five minutes. Usually he slept nude but he was clothed in tartan pyjamas, worn soft with use. Crowley gazed up at him, long red hair curled over the pillow. Under the covers she wore a black silk slip. She preferred Aziraphale to keep her warm. 

“Angel,” she drawled, then pursed her lips. She continued more softly. “Could we talk about what happened at the picnic? When I was telling Adam ‘bout Rome?”

Aziraphale tensed up and his eyes flicked down and then back to the page. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“Well, I was talking about that one guy, you know the bloke, and then suddenly you seemed… upset?” Crowley hazarded a guess. 

The book Aziraphale had been holding fell softly to his lap. Oh dear, what _was_ he to say to that? He hadn’t forgotten, of course, but all these hours later Aziraphale wasn’t sure why he had reacted that way. His thoughts raced around and around his head as he wrung his shaky hands together. He hated this, he hated this, he hated, hated, hated, hated- 

“Angel, Aziraphale, hey,” Crowley said. She was now sat up in bed, but hesitated in reaching out and touching him. The interruption made Aziraphale take in a big, gulping breath after which he burst into heaving sobs. 

“Oh, my darling,” Crowley whispered as she slowly, carefully embraced him. “It’s alright, it’s okay. Shh, love, let it out, it’s okay.” Aziraphale cried into her shoulder for several long minutes. He didn’t know what had come over him. 

He sniffed and sat up a little. “I’m sorry, dear. That was terribly unbecoming of me and certainly uncomfortable for you.” 

Crowley silently counted to ten in her mind instead of hightailing it to heaven to unleash some demonic wrath on a certain number of angels. Aziraphale had _apologised_ for being (almost certainly) justifiably upset. It made her want to scream and throw things. The plants were in for a shocker of a morning. 

Nevermind that now. She was supposed to be comforting her partner, not planning revenge.

“No need to be sorry, angel. You have every right to feel things and express them, yeah?” Crowley offered him a handkerchief from her side of the bed. 

He took it with a small smile. “You’re probably right.” 

“Course I am. Now, how about we retrace the steps? Did someone do something? Or say something?” 

The damp handkerchief twisted over and over Aziraphale’s hands as he thought. “Said, I believe.” 

“Was it something I said, then, when I was talking about Rome?” 

The furrow in Aziraphale’s brow deepened. He had a good memory, all these years later. Not one so much for details as Crowley did, as Aziraphale usually got caught up in food or conversation. He had a mind for language, though, and as he recalled the wording of Crowley’s story he let out a small “oh” of surprise. 

“You’ve remembered, then?” she asked. 

“Yes, I’m, I’m afraid I have.

“No reason to be afraid, Aziraphale, you can always be honest with me.”

He removed his book to the sidetable and folded his hands in his lap. “I do believe that I’m in this state because you called me your husband,” he replied with a tight smile. 

That wasn’t what Crowley expected. She backed off, slightly. One hand hovered above Aziraphale’s thigh, light caught on the golden ring. “Do you… not want to be married anymore?” Crowley questioned in a soft voice. 

A horrified look crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Good heavens! No, my dear, never that, I promise you,” he grabbed her hand tightly and pressed it to his chest. “No, it is the… connotations, of the phrase, I suppose.” 

Crowley squeezed back. “Aziraphale, I know you’re upset right now,” she said in a strained voice, “but I would _really_ appreciate it if you spell it out for me.” 

The angel let out a breath. He nodded slowly. “The thing that upset me, about your comments, was,” he said, “the gender, of it.”

“Ah,“ she responded with a breath of relief. Crowley knew she had to be delicate about this, then. “Why were you worried about telling me? You’ve never had a problem with my gender stuff, have you?” 

“Goodness, no. It’s just, well, you’re so _confident_ about it all dear. I’ve gone six thousand or so years in the same corporation with the same feelings and lately they’ve changed and, and it scares me.”

“Oh, angel.” 

They hugged again. 

“I know, it is rather foolish of me,” he whispered into her neck. 

“‘s not, not at all. You’re perfect and wonderful and my angel, no matter what.”

Aziraphale responded with a soft “thank you.”’

“Hey, do you want to talk about it some more? I’m happy to, as much as you need.” 

“Thank you dear, but I think I would rather just,” he yawned, “retire for the evening. All of that emotion has rather tired me out.” 

He wiggled down to lie horizontally. “I see what you mean about _feelingssss,”_ he continued in his best Crowley impression. 

She snorted with laughter. 

^^^

The next day they had the whole day off. The children were good at occupying themselves, which meant the couple had a long, luxurious morning in bed.

Aziraphale felt somewhat better than the night before. Better out than in, he mused to himself. Crowley was being terribly nice about the whole thing. They had woken up before their partner to prepare breakfast for the two of them. 

Aziraphale woke to the smell of fresh toast and a whisper from his love. How lucky he was. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured. As he blinked open his eyes he was greeted to the beautiful sight of Crowley hovering above him. Their red hair cascaded down like a curtain around their face. 

“Morning, angel,” they replied, then bent down for a soft kiss. Aziraphale smiled into it. When they parted Crowley flopped down next to him, content. 

Aziraphale rubbed at his sleep-dry face then sat up. As he glanced over at Crowley his eye caught sight of the breakfast tray resting on the side-table. 

“Oh!” he gave a pleased wiggle. “You shouldn’t have, dear.” 

“Yeah, but I did,” Crowley gazed up at him fondly, a blush across their cheeks. 

Aziraphale brushed a hand across their hair. _“Thank_ you, you’re very sweet.” 

Crowley blushed deeper and kissed his hand. They rested there for a moment then sat up and brought the tray over to sit over Aziraphale’s lap. 

They sat back against the pillows and dug in. Aziraphale made a variety of pleased noises as he worked his way through the foods. Crowley was more haphazard as they picked at their half of breakfast. 

The conversation was light, much lighter than that of the night before. It mostly consisted of recounting interactions with the children, village gossip, and possibilities for dinner. 

Both were aware of the elephant in the room. Or maybe it was an aardvark. But it wasn’t something to start the day with in either case. 

They worked backwards from dinner and began to talk about what they could do until then. Crowley suggested that they could go and visit Vik down the road and see how ze was going with float preparation. 

Aziraphale was hesitant in his reply and gulped down a fair amount of tea to stall. 

“Angel?” 

“Would you mind terribly dear if we stayed in today?” he asked in a small voice. “I don’t particularly feel like going out.” 

Crowley sat up from where they had flopped back down on the bed .“Of course not. You think I would pass up a day to spend with my favourite person?” they said, just to get a tiny smile out of Aziraphale. 

“But seriously, angel. Tell me whatever you need, whenever you need and we’ll try to make it happen, yeah? I know things haven’t been easy for you. I mean, they haven’t been easy for me, either, but this new stuff as well. I know it’s hard, alright, and you’re allowed to find that difficult. Or uncomfortable, or whatever,” they added. “I love you, Aziraphale, no matter what. You’re not alone in this.” 

Aziraphale tried to hold back his tears but couldn’t stop the dam from breaking. He smiled through them, though, and waved off Crowley’s sweet concern. 

“I love you, darling, thank you,” they collectively wiped at his damp face. “You’re wonderful.” 

Crowley smiled as they ran a thumb across Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale crossed the short distance to kiss their cheek and was immediately pulled into a hug. 

The breakfast tray was jostled in the movement but Aziraphale couldn’t possibly worry about crumbs at a time like this. 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms tightly around Crowley’s waist and buried his face in their neck. In the middle of that they managed to use one of their long arms to extract the tray and return it to the side table. 

With the barrier out of the way they pressed closer together and slid sunk down back in bed. Aziraphale let out a breath as he felt something tight inside him release. He was safe here. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there. Aziraphale rarely indulged like this these days. Since they saved the world he felt a kind of restlessness, that he needed to go out and _do_ things. Sure, they had effectively retired. Most of their daily activities consisted of eating out and socialising with their various friends and acquaintances. But they had definitely been _busy._

No wonder it had all spilled out like this. Aziraphale sighed and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s collarbone. 

“I want to do some reading, if that’s alright, dear,” he said. 

Crowley hummed as they curled closer around their pillow. 

Aziraphale slipped out of bed and drew on his robe before he padded down the hall to the library. 

What originally had been a study had the ceiling knocked through so the room had double the height. It was just enough for Aziraphale’s books. Barely a miracle involved. 

The shelving system was of his own design, of course. The Dewey fellow may have been influential but he was an awful man. In getting to know their various godchildren Aziraphale had shifted all of the more informative and relevant LGBTQ+ texts to one section for convenience. For times like this. 

He went to it and ran over the books with his fingers. They had always been such a comfort. Now he felt a little apprehensive. Standing there wouldn’t change anything, of course. Aziraphale steeled his resolve and selected the ones he knew had been best at explaining Crowley’s own gender to younger people. He tidied them into a neat pile and walked back to the bedroom. 

Crowley was fast asleep again, mouth open and drooling, hair every which way. Aziraphale loved them so much. 

He climbed back into bed carefully, not wanting to wake his sleeping spouse.

Aziraphale settled against the headboard and cracked open the first book. He obviously was aware of much of the theory covered as it related to people he knew well, but it was best to start at the beginning. 

Although distinctly _not_ human, Aziraphale had been on earth for such a long time that he had witnessed countless iterations of gender theory. But here he was well into the twenty-first century. Best to start with the modern stuff, he supposed, even if some of it was irrelevant for him. 

^^^ 

At some point Aziraphale had miracled a pad of paper and pen into his lap to write down notes. He wasn’t sure how long he had been at it as he was incredibly focused on his reading. Crowley next to him had shifted several times in their sleep, but still slumbered on. Aziraphale only realised the time when the sounds of bounding footsteps came down the hall and stopped outside their door. 

“Aziraphale? Crowley?” Adam’s voice rang out. 

At the noise Crowley began to stir. Aziraphale could hear the general shuffling outside of the room and looked fretfully between the door and his waking love. He had to make a decision. 

Aziraphale twisted his hands in the sheets. He supposed it would be like ripping off a bandaid, or perhaps giving a flaming sword away. Definitely quick, pain and difficulty notwithstanding. 

“Come in, dears,” he answered. Better to get this over with. 

Crowley finally opened their eyes and grunted as their room was filled with four boisterous young people. They crowded at the foot of the bed, unphased by the studying and sleeping that had been happening. 

“We hadn’t heard from you all day and there wasn’t a note or anything-” “-we wanted to see if you were alright-” “ _Not_ that we can’t look after ourselves, of course.” “Yeah!”

In the middle of the commotion Crowley had sat up, hair messy around their pillow-creased face. They blinked once, then glasses appeared and covered their eyes. 

Now faced with other people rather than the comfort of written words, Aziraphale began to feel incredibly small again. A sense of guilt bubbled up, too, at abandoning the children. Crowley noticed, of course. They always did, with the angel. They placed a comforting hand on the small of Aziraphale’s back. 

Despite his growing anxiety Aziraphale decided to be honest with them. They were always so honest with him. The group was still staring, waiting for an answer. 

He looked down at his hands which had moved to twist together in his lap. “To be frank with you all, recently I have been, ah, questioning my gender, as it were. My… anxiety has subsequentally skyrocketed, so I, unfortunately, won’t be able to come out with you all today.”

The Them looked at one another, and seemed to shrug in unison. 

“S’alright” 

“Do you want us to stay with you?” 

“Do you want some ice-cream? Ice-cream always makes _me_ feel better” 

“Ooh yeah, can we have ice-cream for lunch?” 

Again they began to respond all at once, over each other and had the conversation as much as between themselves as they did with Aziraphale. He was most pleased with their reaction but also incredibly overwhelmed. Vulnerability was taxing. 

“We’ll see you later, kids,” Crowley announced. They didn’t want to be one of those adults who didn’t explain reasons for doing or saying things but Aziraphale needed to be taken care of. They were well-meaning but far too energetic for the present moment. 

Adam looked at Crowley, then nodded. “C’mon, we can go the place up the street.” 

The Them followed him out, as they always did. 

Aziraphale sank with relief into the pillows and Crowley clung on to him for a long while. They were only interrupted by the sound of Aziraphale’s stomach rumbling. 

He sighed. More decisions to make. He didn’t feel at all up to being a person. 

“We should eat, yeah?” Crowley asked, offering a lifeline. “C’mon, I’ll text the kids to clear out and I’ll make you something,” they said. 

“Alright, my dear,” Aziraphale replied softly. 

Crowley proceeded to wrap him up in one of their softest blankets and shuffle out into the kitchen. The kids had indeed vacated the premises, although there were obvious traces of where they had been. They didn’t have the ease of miracles for cleaning up. 

Crowey popped their love down on a stool and began to cook. 

Watching Crowley do anything was always wonderful in Aziraphale’s opinion. This was dialed up to ten when they cooked. They liked eating, most of the time, but didn’t share Aziraphale’s passion. But here they were, making food for Aziraphale. He could feel the love pouring off them in waves. 

His musing was interrupted by a large mug of hot chocolate being placed in front of him. 

“Thank you.” 

Crowley gave a small smile then turned back to their task in silence. 

After some time the food was plated up and Crowley came around the island to sit next to him. 

Aziraphale ate slowly, weary of his churning stomach. They shared the meal in soft silence. Crowley finished first as usual and returned to sipping their coffee.

After a while Aziraphale was finished, most of the food gone from his plate. It worried Crowley some, for food to remain, but they wouldn’t push the angel right now. 

They put the dishes in the sink and then offered Aziraphale a hand. He took it and they walked back to their room. When they got there they sat on the end of the bed close together, Crowley’s arm wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“D’you wanna keep reading, angel?” they asked and stroked his hand in what they hoped was a comforting way. 

Aziraphale shook his head. “Not right now. I don’t…” his gaze was trained on the floor. “I don’t know what I want to do,” he said at barely more than a whisper. 

Crowley ran through the list of preferred Aziraphale activities in their mind for something that would be calm enough but also distracting. 

“How about we play chess?” they asked after a moment. “Haven’t done that in ages.” 

“Oh! Oh,” Aziraphale turned to face them, “that, that would be _lovely_.” He reached up and cupped their cheek. Crowley pressed into it. 

Across the room a fine chess set appeared on their small table. They walked hand in hand over and sat down. 

The couple spent the better part of the afternoon playing game after game. Neither had a particularly good poker face in front of the other but that didn’t matter. They were too old to be all that competitive. (Or at least, that was Crowley’s excuse.)

Aziraphale slowly but surely came more and more out of his shell. He smiled more and let himself stop worrying for now. No matter who or where he had been, Crowley had loved him. They were both still aware of the proverbial elephant in the room but it faded to the background, for the moment. 

Throughout Crowley had not-so-subtly been checking their phone. They protested that they weren’t using it to cheat which was made obvious by their losing streak. In reality, they were checking in on the kids. They cared so much. 

The sun began to set and the angel was cast in a beautiful warm glow from the nearby window. Crowley was a lucky not-person indeed. Aziraphale seemed much better than he had been in the morning and Crowley wanted to keep the improvements going. Once they had lost again - after a grueling series of check, thank you very much - they ordered dinner. 

“Another game, darling?” Aziraphale asked as he reset the pieces. 

Crowley rubbed at the back of their neck. “Do you mind if we, um, cuddle for a bit, angel?” 

“Of course not. Never, Crowley,” he assured. “I’ve neglected you terribly, haven’t I?” 

They shrugged. “I think you were more than a little preoccupied.” 

“Still. Morning cuddles are important to both of us and we missed out. Come along now.” 

Aziraphale led them to the bed and snuggled in under the sheets. Crowley followed and immediately clung to the angel, their face coming to rest in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. For once Aziraphale forgot about dinner, simply content to hold his spouse and enjoy the closeness they shared. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was until there came a knock at the door. “Mmm,” Crowley murmured into Aziraphale’s collarbone. The knock came again. 

They sat up a little. “Come in, Brian!” 

He shuffled in, large takeaway bag in one hand and a half eaten toastie in the other. 

Aziraphale sat up properly to greet their guest. “Ah, hello, Brian,” he said with a wince. “I’m awfully sorry you got roped into being a delivery person.”

He popped the bag down on the table. “S’alright. You feeling any better?” he asked then took a large bite of his sandwich. 

Crowley slithered out of bed and started unpacking their food. 

“Oh, um, I believe so. A little, I think. Thank you very much for asking.” 

Brian shrugged. 

“Thanks, kid,” Crowley added.

“Y’r w’lc’m,” he replied then swallowed. “Night.” He left with a jaunty wave and closed the door behind him. 

The couple shared a quiet meal together in bed. Aziraphale did his best not to fret about food getting in the sheets. 

Halfway through dessert Aziraphale put his spoon down. “Thank you, dear.” 

“I mean, it’s just dinner, but you’re welcome.” 

“Not just the food.” Aziraphale gave them a meaningful look. 

Crowley shrugged. “You don’t need to thank me for that. It’s part and parcel with the whole, y’know, thing.” 

“Love?” 

“Yeah.” 

Aziraphale’s gaze turned incredibly soppy. Crowley rolled their eyes good naturedly but blushed when the angel leaned in to brush a kiss across their cheek.

“I’m very fortunate, in either case,” he murmured as he pulled back. 

An almost inaudible “me, too,” left Crowley’s mouth as they promptly shoved a cake-covered spoon in as if to quell it. Aziraphale smiled. 

^^^ 

They cleared the dishes away together and after a brief interlude of necessary nighttime routine returned to cuddling. This time Crowley clung to Aziraphale’s thigh as the angel continued to read. After they had fallen asleep Aziraphale put his book aside and focused solely on combing through their hair. 

Aziraphale knew so many trans and non-binary people. His dearest love included. He had never been cis as it simply wasn’t possible for any angel to be. They weren’t _born_ , they were created - and without gender besides. But going from the vague “not cis”, man-shaped being he thought he was to an actual definite _something_ was a terrifying gap to bridge. Too immense, too vast for him to travel in one stride. 

Perhaps he should start smaller, Aziraphale thought, before settling on something concrete. Throughout history he had gone about appearing as a man because it was more convenient to adhere to people’s assumptions. Along with that came the use of he/him pronouns. He hadn’t really minded for most of his existence. They had been considered neutral for a long time, in a patriarchal sort of way, along with lots of terms Aziraphale had been included in. But that was considered outdated, now. Smashing glass ceilings and all that. 

Maybe he would start by changing his pronouns. Maybe _they_ would start by changing _their_ pronouns, Aziraphale corrected. Oh, that did sound quite pleasant. 

Pleased with themself, Aziraphale switched the lamp off and slid down to hold Crowley properly. Their discovery could wait until morning. 

^^^

After the usual sleepy morning kisses and grins Aziraphale remembered their late-night musings. They weren’t sure how best to go about this but there was a first time for everything. Crowley hadn’t asked outright yet if they had found anything useful, but there was a glint in their eye as if it was what they were thinking about. 

“Crowley I, um, last night, well. I think…” stammered Aziraphale, as they tried to find the words. Crowley gave them an encouraging smile. “I think I might want to use they/them pronouns, now. At least while I’m still… unsure.” 

“That’s great, angel. Thank you for trusting me with that.” Crowley squeezed their arms tighter around Aziraphale who let out a breath of nervous relief. “D’you want to tell the kids, or just us for now?” 

Aziraphale looked off into the distance. “I ah, suppose I must. One can’t stay in bed forever.” 

Crowley couldn’t help but rolling their eyes at that. They hooked their chin over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You can if you need to. I don’t mind.” 

They sighed. “No, no. I want to go out today. At least out of this room. We’ve been cooped up for far too long.” 

“If you’re sure. Do you wanna text them, one by one, face to face…?” 

Aziraphale considered the options in silence. They weren’t up for any sort of confrontation, at the moment. “Do you think text messaging is too cowardly?” 

“Come out where, when and however you like. Whatever’s safest and most comfortable for you,” reminded Crowley, something they had both said to so many people over so many years. 

“A text, then,” they nodded. 

Crowley’s phone suddenly appeared in their hand in front of them. They offered it up for Aziraphale to take, but they just pressed it back into their hand. 

“I trust you.” 

Slim fingers typed out a brief, to-the-point message which Crowley lifted for approval. 

“Aziraphale is exclusively using they/them pronouns for the forseeable future. Comply or face my wrath.” 

“Really, dear?” they asked and turned to face Crowley. 

“What? I thought you would like it. You get pretty wrathful whenever our kids are misgendered.” 

“Yes, well. I don’t think it’s the tone I’m going for.” 

“Fine.” The click-clack of keys filled the silence as Crowley deleted and rewrote the message. “Better?” 

“...respect that or else. I suppose a vague threat is the best I can hope for?” Crowley gave them a pleased look. “Alright. Send it, please.” 

They did so and dropped the phone onto Aziraphale’s lap. “I’m proud of you, y’know?” 

Aziraphale wanted to protest but then thought better of it and accepted the statement with a pleased look. Only a few seconds passed and the device began to ping with the sounds of notifications. 

The screen became filled with colourful images (“memes, angel”) and plenty of emojis as The Them reacted to the news. 

Some of Aziraphale’s nervous tension eased and made way for hunger. It was morning, after all. 

“Out for breakfast, angel?” 

“Oh! That would be delightful.” 

Crowley pressed a kiss to their cheek then slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, presumably to fix their hair. 

Aziraphale was left to contemplate their outfit for the day. They stood in front of the closet mirror with a frown. How did Crowley do this? 

They sighed and snapped on their standard suit which they had worn for years and years. It still fit the same but it didn’t… fit. 

A wave of panic rose up and threatened to overwhelm them before they remembered their realisation from last night. Small steps. Baby, if needed. They really should take the advice they so readily dished out to all the young and questioning people they had helped over the years. 

With a snap the clothing disappeared and they were left in their underthings. Maybe if they changed the foundation, clothing would come easier. 

They thought of how Crowley changed their shape. It was often very subtle but Aziraphale always noticed. Maybe that would be enough. 

A few gentle strokes and Aziraphale had a slight waist. A subtle dip, in and out, right across their middle. They were still soft with a flat chest. For a moment they contemplated enlarging it but dismissed that thought almost immediately. 

They didn’t think they wanted their hair longer. Or at least, not for the moment. Their face, though. They were already soft to begin with - a fact Crowley liked to enthuse about for hours at a time, if allowed. But they were still perceived as masculine. 

Aziraphale stepped closer to the mirror. They wouldn’t change too much. It wouldn’t be them, and Crowley would probably riot. Just a touch, just a little. Softer and rounder and curvier, exaggerating what was already there. Perfect. 

Once finished they snapped on their clothes again. Better, but still not enough. Miraculous tailoring was never preferred so Aziraphale summoned a suit that was less well-worn. They shed the bow-tie immediately and placed it on the dresser with the jacket. 

A wave of the hand and their clothes had shifted slightly. The shirt and waistcoat fit their body and the trousers were of a wider, more feminine cut. Aziraphale was just examining their work when Crowley emerged from the bathroom. 

“ _Wow,_ angel,” they said in awe. Crowley strode over to stand in front of Aziraphale as they took them all in. Aziraphale blushed as Crowley’s gaze traveled up and down their body. 

“Is it alright?” 

“Alright? You look… wonderful.” 

They tugged at the waistcoat. “Oh, ah. I’m glad you think so."

“Wonderful. My pretty angel,” they crooned as they wrapped Aziraphale in a warm hug. They gave a happy wiggle. 

“You like that, my pretty angel? So beautiful, aren’t I lucky,” 

“Mm!” they said into Crowley’s shoulder. They separated only when Aziraphale’s stomach interrupted by grumbling again. 

When they did, Aziraphale noticed the pins all over Crowley’s jacket. They raised an eyebrow. 

“You want one?” 

“I don’t think they’re exactly… my style.” 

Crowley nodded, thought for a moment, then snapped their fingers. They offered up the pin they had produced. 

A rapid series of thoughts raced through their head. About what people would think, how they would react, if it would be safe, if it was allowed. They’re a principality, stood up to heaven, Crowley wouldn’t let anything happen. 

Aziraphale looked hesitant but nodded anyway. Crowley stepped forward and bent down to pin it to their waistcoat. 

“Thank you, darling.” 

“Breakfast?” 

“Please.”

They walked out of the house hand in hand. 

^^^

Breakfast was fine. Of course it was. Aziraphale had nothing to worry about, really. Everyone was nice - lovely, even - and were very happy to see the village’s favourite couple. Crowley’s elaborate outfit was particularly dressy for the early hour of the morning it was and did what they wanted in taking attention away from Aziraphale. All they could feel was a pleased relief, that the initial part was over. 

They still had to search for a label. Well, they did not _have_ to, but they very much wished for one to anchor themself in this sea of confusion. Aziraphale was quickly distracted from their search by Crowley. A break really was what they both needed and they were content spending the day milling about the house and garden with their spouse. 

Only when they were snuggled together in bed at the end of the day did those thoughts of Aziraphale’s return. There was one resource they still hadn’t explored. 

“Darling, I was wondering if I could ask you a gender related question?” 

“Sure, angel.” 

“Well, I know it’s probably awfully hard to describe but… how do you feel gender, Crowley? Or experience it, I suppose.” 

“Huh,” they said, surprised and stumped. 

“Oh, you needn’t answer if it’s difficult-”

“Shh, Aziraphale. Lemme think.” 

The room was filled with silence for a few moments as they did. 

“It’s just this feeling, I guesssss, in me. Or not, if, y’know, I don’t have a gender that time. It can be the same for a while or shift around,” they explained with a lot of hand movements. “Now I’m used to it, I know what the feelings mean, what clothes and hair and pronouns will line up. Even now sometimes I can be a little wrong.”

“Hmmm.” That didn’t help as much as Aziraphale had hoped. 

“It’s different for everyone, angel,” Crowley said as they pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s collarbone. 

“I know. I only thought your experiences would help me more because, well. You’re as old as I am?” 

They pulled back with a shocked face. “You’re calling me old?”

“Really, my dear?” Aziraphale’s familiarity with Crowley’s theatrics did nothing to dissuade them. 

Crowley sat up to monologue properly. “I am insulted and affronted. My own spouse, insulting me in our marital bed!”

“Marital bed? Crowley, that’s not really what that means, you know-” 

“Affronted, I say!” they croaked, one finger pointed high in the air. 

There was only one thing for that. 

Aziraphale tackled them, and they both burst into giggles. 

^^^

Later that night Aziraphale woke up slowly. They had adopted the unfortunate habit of using their phone for checking the time and picked it up with a frown. It was late - or early, depending on how one looked at it. They also had some sort of notification from a chat-app. 

Aziraphale sat up more in bed. They clicked open the message and were greeted by a colourful background and simple black text. “Gender wiki” announced the page. 

For the moment they put the phone down and stared into the dark room. Maybe this was where they would find the answer they had been looking for. 

But they couldn’t label their feelings if they didn’t know them. Crowley had explained their own experience before, and it certainly didn’t match up with Aziraphale’s. But what did? 

Nothing, really. There wasn’t a distinct feeling of gender like Crowley had described within them. Nothing they could say for certain _was_ a gender. They definitely weren’t a woman, they knew that much. And Aziraphale had gotten into this whole thing because they realised they weren’t a man. Whatever their gender was it didn’t really shift and change like Crowley’s. It had been pretty stagnant, in all honesty. Hopefully this wiki-encyclopedia would help. 

Aziraphale navigated around to the equivalent of the contents page and begun to click through each of the pages. 

Oh, the internet was a wonderful place. So many of the labels and terms they had heard in passing were there - defined and accessible. As they went along they tried to compare their feelings to the explanation given. 

Soon enough they came across a page that had them stop in their tracks. They read it, then reread it again. They opened up the related pages - neutrois, non-binary, androgynous, but returned to the first again and again. 

Agender. 

**…** a term which can be literally translated as ' _without gender'_. It can be seen either as a non-binary gender identity or as a statement of not having a gender identity. People who identify as agender may describe themselves as one or more of the following: Genderless or lacking gender, gender neutral. This may be meant in the sense of being neither man or woman yet still having a gender, neutrois or neutrally gendered, Having an unknown or undefinable gender; not aligning with any binary or non-binary gender, Having no other words that fit their gender identity… 

_Agender._ It sounded… perfect. They couldn’t help but try it aloud, though quietly as Crowley slept on. 

“Hello, my name is Aziraphale. My pronouns are they/them and I am agender. Agender. An agender angel.” They had to bite their lip from letting out a joyful yell. It was _them._

Their happy wiggling or phone light must have disrupted Crowley as they shifted back towards Aziraphale. 

“Angel?” they asked sleepily. 

“Oh, my dear, I am terribly sorry to have woken you up.” 

Their eyes opened slightly into slits. 

“What’ssss up?” 

Aziraphale blushed and ran a hand through their sleep-rough hair. 

“I think I found it,” they whispered.

“Wha’?” 

Aziraphale cleared their throat. “Agender. My word. Or label, rather.” 

Crowley dragged themself up to sit with their spouse. “Yeah?” they asked, their face stretched at the pleasant surprise. 

Aziraphale nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“ _Angel._ My sweet agender angel. Come here already, come on,” they threw their arms open wide. 

Aziraphale cuddled in close, held safe by long limbs. 

“Proud of you, love. So much,” they whispered into Aziraphale’s ear.

Aziraphale pressed a kiss into their neck gratefully, and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Everything borrowed from the Gender Wiki belongs to them: https://gender.wikia.org/wiki/Gender_Wiki  
> Aziraphale's pronoun badge is inspired by the vintage styles you can find at TigersEyeAdventureCo on Etsy. I have one of the retro punk style ones myself. Good stuff. 
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day, I would love it if you left some! 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr @ineffable-anathema


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